Mr. Punch on Tour: The Humour of Travel at Home and Abroad by J. A. Hammerton (best mobile ebook reader txt) đź“•
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- Author: J. A. Hammerton
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Justice. Capon in basket, robes, and treatise upon ancient saws and modern instances.
Soldier. Sword, uniform case, standard work upon Reputation.
Pantaloon. Sausages, property red-hot poker, costume of motley, slippers and spectacle case.
Veteran. Travels without luggage.
A Great Traveller.—Dr. Watts was evidently in the habit of making pedestrian excursions on the Continent, for in one of his noblest lines, he expressly says—
"Whene'er I take my walks abroad."
Innocent Abroad.—You are misled in your view that the Cours de Cuisine, mentioned in the prospectus of a French school, means the run of the kitchen.
[Pg 103]
Brown. "This is rather a pretty figure. You start on the left foot, cut a drop three—then——" (Bump)
Little Girl (unmoved). "Oh, that's why it's called a drop three, Mr. Brown!"
[Pg 104]
Photographer (on tour, absent-mindedly). "Now smile, please!"
At the Celestial Restaurant.—Customer (indignantly). Hi! waiter, what do you call this soup?
Waiter (meekly). I not know, sir, but ze padrone tell me to describe 'im Cockstail!
[Pg 105]
Traveller (snap-shotting tropical river, suddenly confronted by hippopotamus). "Just keep like that one moment, please!" (Rapturously) "Such a delightful expression!"
Note by Our Traveller—At a station on the Elham Valley Line, "Kentish Pianos" are advertised. Are these adapted for playing only dance tunes, and therefore specially serviceable in a "Hop" county?
[Pg 106]
EASTER HOLIDAYS (By One who has tried them)Must really decide where to go for five or six days at Easter. Weather always awful. Usual Springtime. North-east wind, frost, snow and dust. Something like last week. Can't stop in London. One Sunday or Bank Holiday in London mournful enough. But four of them consecutively! Impossible!
Innocent persons go to the south coast of England, thinking that fifty miles nearer the equator one is in quite a different climate. Bournemouth? Bosh! All sandy dust and depressing invalids. Torquay? Twaddle! Probably rain all the time, if not snow. England no good. Scotland or Ireland? Worse!
Must go, as people say vaguely, "abroad." How about Paris? North-east wind, frost, snow and dust, worse than here. Streets windy, theatres draughty, caf�s and restaurants suffocating. Brussels? Nothing but rain. Aix-les-Bains? Probably snow. Nice? That might do. No[Pg 108] frost or snow, but very likely a north-east wind and certainly lots of dust. Besides, thirty hours' journey out and thirty hours' journey back, would only leave about sixty hours there. No good. Rome, Seville, Constantinople, Cairo? Still farther. Should have to leave on the return journey before I arrived. Where can I go to at Easter to be warm and comfortable, without so much trouble? I know. To bed!
Regardless of the Temperature.—Facetious Australian (off Calshot Castle, to indisposed friend). What arm of the sea reminds one of a borrowed boot?
The "I. F." (feebly). Give it—anything—up.
F. A. Why, the Sole-lent, to be sure.
[The "I. F." is promptly carried below.
At Bath.—Wiffling (sympathetically). Here on account of the waters?
Piffling. No, unhappily. Here on account of the whiskies.
"A Question of the Hour."—Asking a railway porter the time of the next train's departure for your holiday resort.
[Pg 107]
Scene—The Summit of Vesuvius
American Tourist (to the world at large). "Great snakes, it reminds me of hell!"
English Tourist. "My dear, how these Americans do travel!"
[Pg 109]
Friend (below). "All you've got to do when I throw you the rope is to make it fast to that projection over your head, and lower yourself down!"
[Pg 110]
Sunday morning, coast of Norway. (By our Yachting Artist.)
[Pg 111]
Parson. "Yes, on one occasion I married four couples in a quarter of an hour. Quick work, wasn't it?"
Nautical Young Lady. "Yes, rather! Sixteen knots an hour!"
[Pg 112]
TO MY AIRSHIP[The poet is being piloted on his aerial flight by a prosaic mechanician. It is to the latter that the interpolations are due..]
Thou elfin Puck, thou child of master mind!
(Look out! the ballast's slipping off behind.)
Thou swanlike Siren of the blue sublime!
(Screw up that nut, and never mind the rhyme.)
Thine 'tis to fathom �ther's highest pole!
(This wind will fairly get us in a hole.)
Thine to explore the azure-vaulted dome!
(I wonder how the deuce we're going home.)
Up, up, thou speedest, flaunting, flaunting high,
Thy glist'ring frame emblazon'd 'gainst the sky;
And myriad-minded fancies still pursue
Thy gliding—(Blow! the anchor's fouled the screw!)
Thou stormy petrel, kissing heaven's height,
(Petrol! The rotten stuff declines to light)
Onward thou soarest o'er the City's dust
Shimmering, triumphant. (Gad! The motor's bust!)
Q. Give the French for "a policeman's beat." A. Un tour de Force.
Q. What is the difference between a traveller and a popular vegetable?
A. One has been abroad and the other's a broad bean.
[Exit Querier rapidly.
[Pg 113]
American Tourist. "Say, how long will it take to see over the ruins?"
Caretaker. "About an hour, sir."
American Tourist. "And how long will it take you to tell us about it?"
[Pg 114]
"Is this your favourite view, poppa darling?"
"Why, certainly. But—ahem!—I prefer it unframed!"
[Pg 115]
Visitor to the West Indies (who has been warned against bathing in the river because of alligators, but has been told by the boatman that there are none at the river's mouth). "By jove, this is ripping! But, I say, how do you know there are no alligators here?"
Boatman. "Well, you see, sah, de alligator am so turr'ble feared ob de shark!"
[Pg 116]
OVER THE SEA.Dear Mr. Punch,—I read that two new cures for sea sickness have just been discovered: the one the eating of bananas; the other, found out by Professor Heinz, of Erlangen, who declares that the malady proceeds from the lobe of the brain, and that to avert it one has only to breathe freely. As to the Professor's theory about breathing freely, I can safely assert that I never open my mouth so wide as when crossing the Channel, but the experiment is an unpleasant failure.
Your obedient servant,
Dionysius Dabelrisk.
Peckham Rye.
At the Grand Hotel, Paris.—Blithers (of romantic turn of mind, to Smithers, after observing a young couple in close conversation in the court yard). I'm sure they're engaged. I heard her call him Harry!
Smithers (a matter-of-fact man). What of that? I call my housemaid Emily! He's most probably her footman.
[Smithers calls for absinthe.
[Pg 117]
Well Meant, But——. Motorist (with heated cylinders). "Where can I get some water?"
Rustic. "There beant noo watter hereaboots—but ye can have a sup at my tea!"
[Pg 118]
By the Silver Sea.—Seaside. Tripper—none too clean in appearance—charters bathing machine. Smart-looking schoolboy (about to enter next machine), loq. I say, ma, I wish that dirty fellow wouldn't bathe here.
Mamma. Why, Tommy? If people of that sort were to bathe, they'd be as clean as you, you know.
Tommy (eyeing Tripper closely). Not in once, mamma!
[Pg 119]
Fair American. "Waal, I guess this is where the Adriatic slops over!"
[Pg 120]
SUMMER RESORTS Dreardon-cum-Slooze.Spring weather, in pleasing variety of sun and snow-shower, now prevails in this highly fla—favoured locality. Mr. Josiah Jorker, Chairman of the Rural District Council here, has bought four black Berkshire pigs, and to lean over the yard gate and inspect them is now a regular afternoon occupation. Discussion as to their merits runs high amongst our local magnates. Situate as this health-giving village is, it offers to the tired brain-worker complete rest, as there is no railway station within six miles, and only the day-before-yesterday's newspaper is obtainable.
Chawboodlecum.A fine bracing N.E. wind has dried the roads, and, amongst the aged and sick, made a clearance, thoroughly in accord with the "survival of the fittest" doctrine. Trade has never been more brisk with the local undertaker and the much-respected sexton. The cricket club opens its[Pg 122] season to-day with a match against the neighbouring village of Sludgely. A "Sing-Song," or "Free and Easy," is held every Saturday night at the "Pig and Puppy-Dog," at which well-known hostelry visitors can find every accommodation.
Slackington.In this genial and mild air, where a steady, gentle rain falls on very nearly every day in the year, the Londoner, fleeing from the trying east winds of Spring, may find a welcome refuge. It is quite a pretty sight on Sundays to watch the people with their different coloured waterproofs stream out of church. There is a rumour that the present supply of cabs will shortly be augmented by one, if not two, fresh vehicles. On Monday last a German band played a charming selection of music in the market place, and there was a dog-fight in the High Street.
Porkbury.This charming spot only requires to be known, to insure plenty of patronage from visitors. The new pump is being pushed forward rapidly, and[Pg 124] the Vicar intends to hold jumble sales once a week throughout the summer. This, in itself, will, it is expected, prove a great attraction.
Police-Constable Slummers, whose urbanity and great consideration for the inhabitants (especially on Saturday nights) have always been so conspicuous, is about to leave, and some of the more prominent townsmen have taken the opportunity of marking their sense of his valuable services by presenting him with a handsome pewter pot, engraved with his name and the date.
A piano-organist now regularly attends the weekly market, and his music is greatly appreciated by those engaged in buying and selling.
At the Farmer's Eighteenpenny Ordinary, last week, Mr. Chumpjaw stated that his mangolds were "the whackin'est big 'uns" grown in the county.
At Boulogne.—Mrs. Sweetly (on her honeymoon). Isn't it funny, Archibald, to see so many foreigners about? And all talking French!
Patron Saint of Messrs. Cook.—St. Martin of "Tours."
[Pg 121]
Englishman (to friend). "There goes that awful liar, who says he has climbed everything under the sun."
Friend. "Don't call him a liar. Rather say he has a great talent for exaggerating things that never happened."
[Pg 123]
Gigantic Guide. "Ze last party zat was 'ere—no one knew whezzer zey shumped over or was thrown over!"
[Pg 125]
Angelina. "There are to be illuminations and fireworks, and they're to finish up with an 'ombrasmong g�n�ral.' What can that be?"
Edwin. "Well, 'ombasser' means to 'kiss'; so I suppose it means a kind of a sort of a general kissing all round."
Angelina. "Horrid idea! I won't go near the place, and I'm sure you shan't, Edwin!"
[Our readers, who know French better than E. and A., are aware that embrasement, with only one "s," has a totally different meaning.
[Pg 126]
Mrs. Jones. "Am I not an expensive little wifie?"
Jones (who has spent the morning and a small fortune at the Magasin du Louvre). "Well, you are a little dear!"
[Pg 127]
Madame Gaminot. "Oh yes, Monsieur Jones, J'adore les Anglais! Zey understand bisnesse! For example, zey pay me sixty pound—fifteen 'undred franc—to sing 'La Blanchisseuse du Tambour-Major' at a
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